Awakening Lament for the Horde 1
by Davenport Ebonsoul
Summary: The awakening of a newly Undead is a traumatic and trying time. A time of reflection, a time of realization, a time to find your place in the world of Azeroth. Your home.


He awakened slowly in the darkened crypt. For a time his eyes refused to open, his long sleep nearly having sealed them shut. He slowly sat up in the darkness. For a long time, he didn't know where he was. The dry darkness confusing him. As he sat up, his head came into contact with something hard. He raised out and felt along the hard roof that was touching him now. Still locked in confusion, he pushed upwards against the roof and it shifted. He pushed again, harder and this time it moved completely. Light assaulted his eyes with it's unforgiving glare and he blinked against it, pain from the glare making him curse in his mind. Slowly, he stood up. His joints stiff in their protest of his movements. He looked down to see that he was standing in a casket. He blinked. He noticed the clothes on his body. Black pants and a black shirt with black cloth shoes. The clothes were starting to degrade, his knees poked out of the pants and his toes...or what was left of them... poked out of the shoes. He stopped. His toes. He looked back down at the remnants of his toes and was frozen. Poking out of the torn, fragile cloth shoes were his toes but they were different. The skin and flesh was gone, all that looked back up at him were bones, bleached and white. Slowly, he raised his hands, bringing them into view. Once more only the remnants peeked at him, bone, each digit polished and white, the skin and flesh having decomposed years ago. He just stood and stared at them, disbelief and horror in his sunken eyes.

It took some time for him to recover from the shock. He wanted to cry but no tears came. His confused mind tried to wrap around the condition he was in. He slumped to a sitting position on the crypt floor, despair taking hold of his frail form. Slowly, he raised his hand to his throat and lightly touched the flesh that was left there. Even though his fingers were just bones now, he could still feel. He remembered his death, quick yet painful. A dagger had slit his throat as he walked with... Her scream radiated in his head now as fragments of an assault long past overtook his confused mind. Desperately, he tried to force the memory into focus. She had been taken but who was she, who had taken her? Again, in his mind's ear he heard her scream. Heartbreaking, afraid and shrill. Rage filled him then. He could feel in his beatless heart that she was an innocent and for some reason, he couldn't quite place his finger on it, she was taken from him and he had been murdered. Even now as his skeletal fingers moved over the long stitched, long healed scar that creased his neck from just under his left ear to just under his right, he cursed the one who had done this to him and to her but he couldn't remember who. He looked around the crypt slowly, trying to get his bearings. Though only a few candles burned within it, to his eyes it was bright as daylight. There were no other caskets, only his own. He sighed and looked at his shriveled form once more. He had to go out into the world. He had to find her... but who was she? He had to find out who he was.

Slowly, the thick wooden double doors to the crypt opened. They hadn't been locked and didn't feel that heavy to him now as he pushed them. He stepped out into the night darkened graveyard and looked around. All was silent for now, the high, dew kissed grass swayed gently in the soft evening breeze, like tiny dancers in a lover's waltz. The gravestones that lined the graveyard stood out starkly in the evening, some were leaning or crooked, some were crumbling from their years of disrepair and neglect, others stood tall, reaching to the sky like the fingers of a giant buried under the soft soil yet yearning to be free. He looked around, the calm of the empty graveyard settling his nerves alittle. His glowing eyes blinked absently as he tried to think where he was going and what he would do once he was there. His mind kept telling him that he had to find her but he couldn't remember who "she" was. It gnawed and pecked at him. But then something else caught his attention. As he stood in the graveyard, what sounded like a voice came to him on the breeze. A song. Soft, comforting, soothing. He crooked his head in the direction that he thought it was coming from and listened. There on the breeze, a woman's voice. It sang a song that he had not heard before but he knew the words, though they were barely audible. He felt a pull in his soul as the song continued, as if he was being summoned. East. That was the direction that came to his mind. He had to go east.

Time seemed to stand still as he traveled, walking for the most part. The song continued to ring in his ears, calling to him, beckoning him. The further he traveled the stronger the pull became and the louder the song rang in his ears. He passed through villages and farms, walked through the forebodingly gloomy woods surrounding them. But still the song called to him, urged him on, beckoned him to come to ... where? He didn't know and he didn't care the only thing that matter was finding out where the song that entranced him so much was coming from. As he passed through the village of Brill, things started to seem familiar to him. He had been here before but he couldn't remember when. He hesitated for a moment and looked at the inhabitants of the village. They looked to be in the same condition as him. He blinked and looked at the merchants and pedestrians, all were walking cadavers, their eyes glowed brightly in the evening, bone poked through their skin in various places, their clothes were torn and rotten. Though they looked much like he did, none seemed to hear the song that still beckoned him to continue his journey, to move through Brill and follow the road. He gawked for only a short time longer before he indeed moved through the village and followed the road south. By the time he was at the bridge leading out of the village he was humming mutely to himself in time to the song that fluttered in his ears like lamenting butterflies. Her voice was powerful yet delicate, commanding yet submissive, he had to follow. Within the hour, he found himself at the once mighty city of Lordaeron now in ruin. Dark clouds hung low over the once mighty city. The singing was strongest here, seeming to radiate from the very tiled walkways leading into the city. He shambled along the walk, entering the city, his body seeming to move of it's own accord. He walked through the courtyard, the hushed whispers of events long past still echoing around him but he paid no heed. He noticed a large Tauren and stopped for a moment, looking at the person silently. The Tauren, turned to him, her demeanor friendly. She was dressed in leather armor, a staff in her hand and dagger at him her hip. She smiled at him. He simply blinked, unsure what to say or do.

"First time here?", she asked simply, taking in his reaction.

Slowly, he nodded. She smiled again and motioned for him to follow her. Together, they walked down a corridor from the main room to a door. With the sound of rushing wind, the door opened and what looked like a lift was on the other side. He blinked. The Tauren stepped onto the lift and he followed. The floor felt as if it shifted under his feet as the lift lowered. When it stopped, the Tauren stepped off and walked through the doorway in front of them now. Slowly, he followed, taking in all around him. The mass of the city sprawled before him, lit by the glow of various orbs affixed to the stone walls or hanging from the high ceiling. A sickly green sludge glowed brightly in a reservoir just under what looked to be a bank. The Tauren female walked down the walkway leading to the bank and stopped. She turned and looked at him, still smiling.

"Stay here a moment. I need to make a deposit. I'll show you around.", she said then turned and got into line to make her deposit.

He nodded and smiled back and would have waited there had the song that had beckoned him all this way not still rang in his ears. He turned, his eyes falling upon a hallway, the song seemed to float out of it. He walked down the stairs leading to this hallway and disappeared down the mysterious corridor. Once more, he let the song lead him. Before he knew it, he was heading down a long, twisting corridor. Undead Sentinels glanced at him as he walked past them. He looked back hesitantly and was met with a smile and welcoming nod. The song was getting louder to him as he walked. He passed two more Sentinels and entered a large room, a raised section in the middle of the room. Curiously, he walked around the raised section until he came to the stairs. The song. Whoever was singing was at the top of these stairs. If his heart still had a pulse, it would be beating a mile a minute now but he did still feel the butterflies in his stomach as he started to ascend the staircase. He came to the top of the staircase and standing before him was what appeared to be a vision of beauty. She was shrouded in ebon robes and a cowl that appeared to be made of the finest silken cloth, her face was pale as death and glowing. She looked at him for a moment, then a smile creased her flawless features.

"You heard my song?", she asked, her voice delicate yet inspiring.

He just looked at her for a long moment, awestruck. Lady Sylvanas smiled to him still, already knowing the answer. Before he knew it, he dropped to one knee, his head bowed as he knelt to her. She moved to him and lightly touched his shoulder.

"Welcome home.", she said softly.


End file.
